


Captus est libidine

by ForeignLander



Category: Castle
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, kinkofthecastle, summer 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeignLander/pseuds/ForeignLander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just needs to make sure she's okay.  Fill for kinkofthecastle summer 14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captus est libidine

The bolts turn, the door swings inward, and the sound of rushing water greets Castle as he steps through the front door, bag of take-out in one arm and suit jacked folded over the other. He knows today was particularly tough on her, could see the strain of it gather between her shoulder blades, which is why he convinced Espo to tell her to go home. Castle knew she wouldn’t listen if he’d asked, but she always listens when Esposito tells her to back off. Some sort of shared bond between them that he still doesn’t quite understand.

The bag of food sinks heavily to the counter and he drops his keys, walking slowly towards the sound of the spray of the shower. By time he reaches the door of the ensuite, he’s dropped all but his boxers to the floor. He knows she might prefer to be alone, but he wants - he needs - to hold her. To massage the ache from her tired muscles. To make sure that she’s okay.

He makes sure to make a big deal of opening the door, opens it just slowly enough that it creaks in warning, alerts her to his presence. The silhouette behind the fogged glass of the shower doesn’t move, not even at the stream of cool air that swirls through the stall as he opens the glass door. Dropping his boxers, Castle steps in behind her.

Her back is to him and he takes a moment to catalogue everything about the beautiful expanse of skin. The hard line of her spine, the soft vulnerability of her neck, the outward flare of her hips and the perfect curve of her ass. She’s as gorgeous as ever, but the sunken, forward curve of her shoulders sends a twinge through his chest.

Castle takes a step towards her and reaches out to touch the lithe expanse of her back. He slides one broad, warm palm up from the small of her back to rest heavily, comfortingly between her shoulder blades. When she leans into his touch, he steps slightly to the side so he can just make out a bit of her profile. In all the time he’s spent shadowing her - and now loving her, getting to know her mind and her body - he’s become quite adept at reading her. Can sense when she’s in crisis and knows that’s not what this is. This is different.

“Kate,” he murmurs, softly, but with enough volume that his voice is clearly heard above the hot force of the water.

A moment passes, and he strokes the curve of his thumb along the soft skin to the left of her spine. She stiffens at the movement and then before he knows it, Castle has his arms full of a warm, wet, trembling Kate Beckett.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Castle cradles her to him for a moment, one hand gently stroking at the small of her back and the other splayed open against her right shoulder blade. Her arms are wrapped around his lower back, clinging fiercely, and there is no space left between him. When he feels her forehead shift against his neck, Castle slides his left hand up to tangle lightly in the hair at her nape, squeezing gently, soothing the tension that gathered there throughout the day.

Beckett’s chest stutters against his once, so quickly he thinks he may have imagined it, but then her whole body tenses, fingers dig into the small of his back, and her breaths quicken against his collarbone.

Using the hand still resting at her neck, Castle tilts her head up until they’re face to face. The slope of her eyebrows, the furrow of her forehead, the hard press of her lips make his heart break. So rarely has he ever seen this woman cry. It hits him all over again how much he loves her. Strong, indomitable Kate Beckett who catches murders for a living lets him see all of her, lets him hold her when she’s at her most vulnerable. She might not verbalize it often, but this, the openness, the willingness to let him witness her whole self in this moment, she couldn’t be saying I love you any more clearly.

Moving the hand at her neck to cup her jaw, Castle soothes the skin underneath her eye, wipes her tears with the caress of his thumb. Leaning in, his lips press lightly against the side of her nose and her eyelids fall shut on a sigh. Castle trails his mouth in a slow path along her right cheek, clearing her tears with the gentle press of his lips. When he reaches her temple, he pulls back lightly, still cradling her face in the cup of his palm, and leans in to press a lingering kiss to each of her eyelids.

At the slide of his left hand up the length of her back, Beckett’s eyes blink open and lock tearfully on his. Cupping her jaw in both hands, Castle soothes his thumbs back and forth, again and again over the thin skin under her eyes, the high curves of her cheekbones.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, gaze flicking back and forth from one gorgeous hazel eye to the other.

Kate shakes her head within the cradle of his palms and stretches forward and up to kiss him gently, tongue swiping out to trace the seam of his lips. He kisses her back reverently, spilling his love for her into the dark cavern of her mouth.

He gentles her, planting small soft kisses against the pout of her bottom lip, and then releases his hold on her, reaching around to grab the shampoo. They spend the next several minutes washing the grime of the day from one another, exchanging soft kisses and no words.

He steps out of the shower first, his feet landing softly on the plush bath mat and he holds a hand out for her, twines his fingers through hers as she steps out of the shower after him. Her fingers fall from his as he reaches back to pull their towels from the silver hooks on the wall. Castle doesn’t attempt to dry her off. Even in her current state, she would roll her tear-reddened eyes, saying something along the lines of _Castle, really. I can dry myself._

When he’s sufficiently dry save a few lingering droplets of water resting on the broad shelf of his shoulders, he ties a knot low on his waist and looks to her. She’s standing at the vanity now, white terry cloth towel knotted between her breasts, pulling a brush through her hair.

Castle steps up behind her and stops her movements with both hands. Gripping the handle of the brush, he gently breaks her grip and places her hand at her side.

“Let me.” His lips brush the shell of her ear as he speaks and when his hands move to drag the brush from the top of her scalp through the length of her hair, she leans forward into the counter, eyes falling shut and neck rolling back.

When a few passes of the brush encounter no knots, Castle steps up behind her, pressing his entire front to her back, not an inch of space left between them. His arms move to wrap around her and she blinks open her eyes, locking with his in the mirror as he rests his chin on her left shoulder.

“Love you,” he says simply and she smiles, small and a still a little watery, but she turns her neck in his direction and their lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Love you too,” she breathes against him. When they break apart, she rests her forehead against the angle of his jaw. Even in moments like this, when she’s been beaten by the world, he revives her with the press of his lips, makes her breathless with the swipe of his tongue.

Castle kisses her temple once, and sets to work painting a wet trail along the side of her face, down the sweep of her neck. Kate gasps when he bites down on her pulse, hands moving to tangle with his where they rest against her stomach.

“Relax,” he murmurs into the skin of he shoulder, the brush of his lips sending a shiver along her spine. Gripping her hands gently, Castle places them on the edge of the counter, and rungs his hands up the length of her arms, nails dragging ever so lightly.

He places several wet open-mouthed kisses to the back of her neck where it meets her spine and she breathes deeply through the contact.

“Let me,” he whispers into the skin behind her ear. He trails his hands over the swell of her breasts until he reaches the knot between them. Lathing the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear, Castle detangles the towel with both hands, pulling away just enough to let it fall to the floor.

The tips of his fingers drag up from the outer swell of her hips, pulling in to trace the soft skin of her stomach and runs his fingers along the underside of her breasts. His movements are symmetrical; both sides of her body receiving the same touch save the right side of her neck where his tongue and teeth are working in tandem.

Her head rolls to lean on his left shoulder to give his mouth more access and his hands move to cup her fully, thumbs brushing over her nipples once. Beckett’s mouth drops open on a soft gasp and he nudges the back of her head with his left shoulder.

When her eyes open, she’s arrested by the sight of them in the mirror. He looks seriously hot, the broad slope of his shoulders visible beyond her slimmer ones, his hair flopping onto his forehead just above his eyes, black with arousal. Aside from the slight redness around her eyes, she looks…wanton. Completely bare and at his mercy. Her eyes are heavily lidded, lips swollen, her hair already drying in unruly waves. Her breasts, the peaks tight and pink, are poking out from the cradle of his palms.

“Watch,” he murmurs with a pinch of her nipples that make her knees wobble. Castle must notice because he steps closer and fits her ass onto the ledge of his thighs. He doesn’t break eye contact, just removes his right hand from her breast, the soft flesh bouncing gently without the support of his palm, and reaches between them to undo his own towel. He drags the cloth along the curve of her hip and drops it to pillow on the counter just to the right of their reflection in the mirror. With the flat of his torso pressed to her back, he braces his left hand on her stomach and bends them both, setting her breasts swaying gently with the movement. His eyes latch onto the movement reflected in the mirror and he reaches down, the hand not on her stomach gripping behind her right knee. Supporting her with the wall of his body, he lifts her right leg and settles it against the ledge of the counter. The softness of the towel prevents the granite from digging into her shin and the stance leaves her wide open.

Beckett watches him watch her, tracking his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and sees him fixate on the wet pink flesh between her legs. Castle doesn’t speak, just trails his hand from her knee along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh to cup her lightly. Her left knee buckles at his touch and he pulls her more tightly against his body with the hand on her stomach.

Dragging his fingers up, Castle strokes her slowly, spreading the wetness pooling at her opening along her folds and up to where her clit rests inside its hood. Using his thumb and forefinger, Castle pinches lightly a few times and then drags his thumb upwards, exposing the red and swelling sphere of nerves. With the wet tip of one finger, Castle presses gently and circles, steadily decreasing the circumference until she swears she can feel every ridge, every whorl of his fingerprint scraping over her.

A steady flow of sighs and gasps escape from Kate’s open mouth and she fights to keep her eyes open. The sensation of his hands on her plus the _view_ , the image of them like this, so vivid in front of her, has her clenching at nothing. Castle must be able to feel the contractions of her muscles, because he stops circling her clit and she bucks, right leg sliding further out along the counter, when he pushes two fingers into her.

Castle steps up tightly behind her, trapping his wrist between her hips and the counter’s edge, and curls, rubbing, circling, and pressing at the spot inside her that he knows will undo her. Beckett’s own hands lift from the counter. She settles her weight back against the broad wall of his chest and brings her hands up to cup her breasts.

She matches her touch to his movement inside her, caressing, tweaking, pinching, pulling on the sensitive peaks of her nipples as he works her to her breaking point. Castle bites down gently on her neck and she breaks, bucking into his hand, clit grinding against his palm, sighing out her release. Working her through the tail end of her orgasm, Castle pulls his fingers, wet with her release, up to his mouth. As he sucks her come from his fingers, he locks eyes with her in the mirror.

Having never stopped working at her breasts, Beckett’s hips twitch into the counter. The combination of her own hands tweaking her nipples and his heated gaze spark straight to her clit. When Castle releases pulls his fingers from his mouth, Beckett breaks eye contact and rolls her neck, her open mouth meeting his wetly, swiping her tongue messily against his to taste herself.

She knows that so completely does it for him every time, so his growl is no surprise. Castle bends his knees slightly, takes himself in hand, and rubs the tip of his cock back and forth against her folds. She whimpers when he passes over her clit, and their kiss is more a messy tangle of tongues and open mouths than anything else at this point.

Castle bites at her bottom lip as he pushes up into her and she gasps, back bowing, breasts jutting forward as she smacks her hands to the counter. She gets about three circular grinds of her hips back into his when he pushes forward, trapping her between the counter and his hips, frustratingly still.

Her eyes fall shut, letting him take control, letting him unmake her and put her back together. His movements are slow and deliberate, and she feels the pads of his fingers trip down her right thigh, pulling her leg even further out to the side. The new angle opens her up and he slides just a bit deeper inside her, striking against that illusive place they only ever really manage to find in this position.

His name escapes her on a breathy sigh, and he wraps broad palms around her waist to pull her back flush with his chest. As minuscule as the movement may have been, it shifts him just enough inside her that her hips start bucking with nowhere to go.

“Castle!” It’s not quite a shout, but not exactly a whisper either and he shushes her gently. Thick fingers slide down the length of her arms and then he’s pulling on her wrists, bending her arms behind their heads and she threads her fingers through his hair, gripping tightly to maintain the position.

With his head settled over her left shoulder, he whispers into her ear, tongue sneaking out to lap at her earlobe when he speaks.

“Open your eyes, Kate. Look at us.”

When the command registers and she obeys, a whimper escapes her and it takes a conscious effort for her to keep her eyelids from sliding shut once more. With the way he has her pushed up against the counter, she can see everything. Her full breasts, pink nipples pointing straight forward thanks to the position of her arms. His cock pressing into her, but frustratingly still. Her clit, red, wet, and swollen, poking out from its hood.

When she finishes her perusal of their bodies, she forces her eyes back to his. His stare is penetrating, but gentle, loving, and she breathes out an _I love you_ to his reflection.

Her words must spur him into action because he’s pulling out of her, excruciatingly slowly, and pushing back in much the same way. With every pass, he slides firmly along the most sensitive part of her and she has to fight through every sensation to keep her eyes open.

When he’s buried to the hilt, he rotates his hips, three hard and slow grinds against that spot and then pulls back, dragging slowly before repeating the same sequence of motions.

“You're so beautiful, Kate,” he says into the shell of her ear, and her eyes lock on his through the mirror. “I love to watch you like this.”

With that, his hands rise to her breasts, massaging, kneading, thumbs dragging over her nipples, hips never stopping, keeping up the maddening drag of his cock inside her.

“The way your body responds to me.” He pinches her nipples between both thumbs and forefingers and she whimpers, but keeps her eyes open, watching him as he narrates.

“And, fuck, Kate, the way you feel around me. The feeling of being buried inside you.” He bites down on her earlobe and thrusts once roughly, pausing when he’s buried to the hilt so she can feel every inch of him.

“It’s amazing. Indescribable.” His hips pick up their rolling and rocking again, and her eyelids flutter.

Castle removes his right hand from her breast and trails it down her stomach, wastes no time in dipping into her wetness, pressing two fingers hard to her clit and drawing tight circles.

It burns in the best way, and Kate flutters around him, the beginnings of her orgasm building in the base of her spine.

“That’s it. Come on, Kate. Come for me, beautiful.”

A few more circles of his fingers, a couple more grinds of his hips, and one last flick to her nipple and her body is going up in flames. Turning into water. Both of those things simultaneously.

Her eyelids slide shut, head rolling back on her neck, but Castle pinches her nipple roughly to get her attention.

“No, Kate. Watch. Watch yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come.”

His words send another wave rolling over her from the crown of her head to the arches of her feet and she gazes out through heavily lidded eyes. Watches the way her breath stutters in her chest, the way her arms twitch, her whole body responding from the series of ministrations he still hasn’t let up. Her eyes flick to his face when he bites at her neck and she gasps, open mouthed when he comes on a low growl, the sound reverberating through her flesh as he empties himself inside her.

Slowly, Castle’s hands and fingers cease their movements and he softens inside her. Pulling out, but not away, Castle gently removes her hands from his hair, pulls her leg from the counter, spinning her body slowly in the circle of his arms. Their mouths meet in a languid kiss as her arms wrap around his neck. Beckett runs her tongue along his top lip before suckling it gently, then moves to the bottom one to repeat the process. She trails kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and then buries her face in cradle of his shoulder, warm breath sweeping against his collarbone on each exhale.

Castles arms move to circle her, hands stroking up and down her naked back.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly into her hair, placing a gentle kiss there. “You okay?”

“I will be,” she says, brushing her lips against his neck. “I will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Standing doggy-style in front of a mirror.
> 
> I'm addicted now, apparently. Perhaps a bit different than the prompter would have liked, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thanks for reading, and comments are welcome.


End file.
